Pupil
by Nightwriter222
Summary: Sometimes Robin thinks it's funny and awesome when people say they would love to have him as an apprentice. Other times... not so much. Slade Apprentice!Robin fic. Not slash, I promise.
1. Guardians

The only problem with hacking is that sometimes you accidentally attract the attention of a crazy evil mastermind with daddy issues. You also sometimes find firewalls you didn't expect, that sucks too.

Other than that, Robin quite liked hacking. It was cool way to pass time. It also made him feel quite important on hacking missions, like it did during the beginning of the (temporary, really it was more of a heroic hiatus) end.

Robin had just slipped into the central console room, away from the massive brawl in the main hallway. Like usual, he'd been sent ahead of the chaos to fulfill the mission objective: obtaining the information on the console. His teammates guarded the doors. He could hear their mental chatter through the link as he plugged in the USB and typed rapidly, breaking down the first basic barriers. General stuff.

 _Hurry up, Rob! Mom made roast beef for dinner tonight!_ Wally said through the mental link.

 _To quote Toy Story: "You can't rush art!"_ Robin shot back.

The hacking became progressively harder and the Boy Wonder smirked. It was nice to have a challenge once in awhile. He broke through the last codes, ready to access the files when a whole new firewall sprung up from seemingly nowhere.

 _What the..._ He thought, unintentionally broadcasting through the mind link.

 _Is everything alright, Robin?_ Aqualad asked.

 _Yeah, just gonna take a bit longer than I thought. Sorry guys._ Robin said. He continued to hack, typing even faster. Admittedly, it was one of the hardest codes he'd ever had to crack. If he was less biased, he might even judge it as almost equal to Batman's skills. Actually... the style of programming was eerily similar to his mentors, making it simultaneously easier and harder to hack. It was easier because he knew what to expect and harder because all his usual shortcomings when it came to hacking stood out. Slowly, one string of code at a time, he worked his way through the firewall. By the end of it his hand had cramped, his eyes stung and the sounds of battle outside had slowed. He downloaded the files as fast as he could through the screen-induced haze, deleted the originals and turned around.

Straight into a fist.

Before he'd even closed the holo-computer, Robin smashed into the console he'd just hacked, skull snapping against the screen. Instinctively, he raised a forearm just in time to block another punch to the gut, giving him the split second he needed to regain his balance and spring into a defensive stance. It took another split second—and a messy block—to blink strings of code from his eyes and get a clear view of his attacker. Black and orange mask, one eye... Robin's mind scrambled, trying to remember the criminal profiles he'd seen.

The man tsked, "That block was sloppy, Renegade. You know you can do better than that."

Finally, the mask clicked. "Deathstroke," Robin ducked a high punch, "not like you could do better. You fight like- Wait, Renegade?"

Deathstroke chuckled, sending an irrational flash of fear through the boy in front of him. Usually, assassins were old news, even one such a high profile. Something about that chuckle, though, unnerved Robin, which was odd. He'd faced thousands of arguably scarier guys and never felt quite as uneasy as he did right now.

The momentary lapse in attention cost him. While Robin was reminiscing, Deathstroke had feinted left and kicked right, catching the teen off guard. He dodged, barely, the kick glancing off his ribs. In an attempt to extract himself from between the assassin and the console, Robin ducked left under Deathstroke's arm and managed to flip into a clear space.

For a moment, the two stared at each other, poised.

Then Deathstroke drew his swords.

 _Oh crap_ , Robin thought, flinging himself to the side to avoid what would have been a deadly blow.

 _Robin? You alright?_ M'gann's voice called through the link, startling him. He'd forgotten about the mind link.

 _You guys finishing up back there? 'Cause I- Ah!_ A sword sliced through Robin's uniform giving him a thick gash on his right bicep. He pressed a gloved hand to it, backing away and drawing his escrima sticks. The dual wield of the swords was really getting to Robin. He'd dodge one only for the other to come out of nowhere, forcing drastic dodges that took a lot of energy. Deathstroke seemed to know exactly how to tire Robin out and had managed to drive the teen into a corner again. Robin glanced behind him. He didn't have much room left, making him feel claustrophobic. He'd need to block the next shot to avoid getting completely boxed in. Right on cue, metal clanged as sword met escrima, Robin catching one of Deathstroke's swords above his head between his two sticks. If he had been a millisecond slower, the sword would have cut him in half from top to bottom. The two stood for a second, arms trembling in a tense push for leverage.

"Good, Renegade, good… but not good enough." Deathstroke chuckled.

"For the last time, what is with 'Renega-!'" Robin stopped short as Deathstroke's second sword slashed between his ribs leaving a long gash right over a lot of precious organs. His arms buckled, dropping the escrima sticks and the sword they had been blocking straight towards his head. With a desperate yelp, Robin leapt out of the way far too slowly. The sword sank into his shoulder and he braced, expecting it to cut his arm clean off. Before it could, however, Deathstroke threw his weight back, pulling the sword with him. The boy wonder stared up at the man, confused and dazed by the fresh onslaught of pain flowing through his shoulder. With one quick move, Slade's sword knocked Robin's escrima sticks out of his bloody hands. Finally registering the continued threat, Robin stumbled backwards, shoulder blades arching when they came into contact with the corner, gloved hand putting pressure on the open wound in his shoulder. At least he still had a shoulder, which Deathstroke could have easily cut off. _Why didn't he cut it off?_ Robin mused

 _What?!_ Wally half-shouted into the mind link. Meanwhile, Deathstroke had sheathed his swords ( _why?_ ) and tucked the escrima sticks into a pocket of his suit ( _wha- why?_ ).

 _Robin, what's going on?_ Aqualad's concerned voice flashed through Robin's thought process.

 _Right! Guys, I could really use some- agh!_ Apparently, Deathstroke had elected to continue the fight without weapons. He'd swung a powerful right hook towards Robin's injured side, which Robin managed to duck. Head back in the game, the boy wonder smirked, feeling the walls of the corner on his sides. He jumped straight up and, using the wall as a springboard, executed a clean double somersault over Deathstroke's head, giving it a strong kick as he passed to land neatly in the open area again. As always, room to move gave a little kick to Robin's adrenaline, dulling the pain. He noticed with satisfaction that the last kick had been strong enough to crack Deathstroke's mask, showing a sliver of Slade's features underneath. Slade's _smirking_ features underneath. Robin snarled, if he had to ask one more 'why' today he'd explode.

"Very good, Renegade. Though better coordination through pain is something you need to work on."

Robin stared at him, "What the… you're giving me advice? Why-!"

The door exploded, the team in all it's glory charging into the room. Robin couldn't help the smile that split his face as his backup stood, ready to fight. He turned back to Deathstroke, triumphant-

"He's gone!"

"Who's gone, Robin?" Aqualad said, "and what happened here?"

"What happened to you?" M'gann yelped, swooping out from behind Superboy.

Robin looked around. He could see what they meant. The room (especially the hacked console) was in shambles, full of random holes in the walls and floor, blood smears, dents… and nothing else.

"Deathstroke." Robin hissed.


	2. Preparations

"I swear, he was right there before you guys waltzed in!"

"Robin, we know. We believe you."

"Yeah? Well then why aren't we doing something! We should be tracking him down, evidence, DNA tests, wanted posters, anything!" Robin retorted, sitting on edge of the seat M'gann had modified to resemble a hospital bed.

"As I said, we will as soon as you're back on your feet and we're back on the ground." Aqualad said.

"And we do believe you!" Wally said, "But does anyone else think that it's just a little weird? I mean, the guy you were fighting just disappeared when you turned your back for a second. You gotta admit it sounds a lot like…"

The bioship was quiet for a moment, the only sound M'gann still wrapping Robin's shoulder with her organic bandages.

"…Something Batman or I would do, yeah, but I swear I wasn't hallucinating Batman in a weird gold outfit." Robin mumbled.

Wally broke down into snorting laughter. Everyone stared at him. "I-I'm sorry… it's just Batman… _gold_ …" He doubled over in his seat, gasping. Artemis thwacked him on the back of the head.

"We're here." M'gann said, barely looking up as the bioship touched down. The hatch opened to the sight of Batman, Black Canary, and Red Tornado waiting for them. The glare on Batman's face stifled any remaining giggles from Wally and any conversation between the team as they helped Robin limp off the ship.

"What. Happened." Batman growled.

"I've got the information." Robin held out the thumb drive, leaning heavily on Aqualad.

Batman nodded, even though both he and Robin knew he didn't care about the information at this point. "Good. What else?"

"Deathstroke." Robin said, "He was guarding the console."

Batman stiffened, "Hm. Come on, Robin." With a swish of his cape, Batman swung beside Robin, taking his weight from Aqualad.

"But Bat-"

"No. Now."

Robin sighed, but allowed his mentor to help him to the zeta tubes anyway. As soon as a flash of golden light signified their departure, Wally burst into laughter again.

Artemis smacked him, "Batman in gold again? Seriously?"

"G-glitter!" Wally gasped.

Black Canary sighed, "Well, until Robin gets back, the team will not be going on any more missions. We might as well do some training in the meantime."

Everyone groaned.

* * *

Deathstroke gently eased open a floor panel, dropping onto the level below. On this floor of Mount Justice the only things in sight were a few pieces of broken equipment scattered around the storage space. Inwardly, Slade rolled his eye at the disorganization. This sort of thing would never happen in his base of operations, though with inhabitants like that empty-headed team of Renegade's, he supposed it was unavoidable. Their voices grated through his earpiece. As a precaution, Deathstroke had hacked the Cave's sound system so he could be forewarned of anyone approaching his location. Forcing himself to listen to the team's mindless chatter, however, suddenly seemed like too great of a precaution to bear.

 _"Look! M'gann made cookies!"_

 _"Hey, save some for the rest of us, Kid Idiot!"_

Deathstroke blocked out their witless conversation once more and hefted the bag he carried higher upon his shoulder. He was just about to pull out a high-powered laser from his belt when one word had his attention snapping back to his earpiece.

 _"Robin, B01"_ The computer announced. Deathstroke paused and considered this. It had only been a few days since his confrontation with Renegade and he was pleasantly surprised at how quickly the boy had recovered enough to be back with his team. After all, that sword had gone relatively deep into the shoulder joint. Deathstroke clenched his teeth at the memory. He had meant to teach the boy a lesson, not nearly cut off an arm. If he hadn't shifted his weight at the last second, he could have permanently damaged his new apprentice, ruining all the preparation he had made up until that point.

There was a flurry of rapid footsteps through the earpiece. _"Rob! Dude! You're back!"_

Deathstroke heard Renegade laugh. The laugh would be a nice sound, he supposed, if only laughter was necessary. " _Hey, KF."_ Renegade said, _"Good to be back."_

 _"Robin!"_ A girl shrieked. Then the rest of the team was greeting him, a flurry of words and excitement and noise.

Abruptly, a whirring sound cut out the voices, _"Robin. It is nice to see you have returned."_

 _"Hey RT, I guess we gotta train now?"_ Renegade said.

 _"No. Black Canary has designated the day for team recuperation. She has suggested you spend time together completing a non-violent team building exercise. Now, if you'll excuse me."_ A heavy clunking of boots concluded the statement and Deathstroke thought over the new information. Renegade was in very good standings with the rest of his team, that much was more than clear. A product of adept social skills, perhaps? Deathstroke had chosen Renegade for the boy's fighting and hacking prowess but now, with this new information, he smiled at the thought of his apprentice negotiating with clients and seducing targets. His boy was going to be the best—and youngest—assassin The Light had ever seen.

With that in mind, Deathstroke continued about his job, finishing the hole in the floor. He set the floorboard aside gently and swung the pack off his back. Upstairs, the team started a game of Scrabble. He unzipped the pack silently and lowered the package inside into the hole carefully. It was a rather large device, after all. Even though his measurements had been done to perfectly to avoid unpleasant surprises, the package still deserved his caution.

 _Tack. Tack. Tack. "Wolf, double letter score on W, eleven points."_

 _"Nice, Supey… dude, your turn."_

 _"I know, I know, just gimme a minute KF." Tack. Tack. Tack. Ta-_

 _"Aster!? You made up that word! You can't use it!"_

 _"Aster is a real word! For your information, it's a flower!"_

Hm. Renegade made up words? How juvenile. That would be prohibited when the boy was his. Deathstroke secured the package against the floor tightly and opened a hatch in the metal. From here, he could calibrate the device to serve his needs exactly.

 _Tack. Tack. Tack. Tack. Tack. Tack. Tack. "Atlantis. With the extra 50 points for using all the tiles-"_

 _"Dude! Your first language is Fish! How-"_

 _"Shut up, Baywatch. Are you going to interrupt every time someone gets a better word than you?"_

 _"But that was like, 20000 points! How are we supposed to beat that?" Tack. Tack. "See? EMP! That's all I've got!"_

 _"It's alright, you did play 'Reaction' last round and earn more than sixty points."_ A girlish voice said.

Deathstroke finished toggling the wires in his device. Perfect, just like his family was about to be. Though, it was a shame it had to start out this way, with this. If only Renegade had been his from the beginning, without time to have been corrupted by the Bat. Well, the boy was still young. They still had time to make things right. With that thought, Deathstroke replaced the floorboard, pressing it shut seamlessly. Unless he got right down and felt the crease, it was impossible to tell that anything had been moved.

Renegade cackled, _Tack. Tack. Tack. Tack. Tack. Tack. Tack. "How's that, KF? G-r-u-n-t-l-e-d, gruntled! Opposite of DISgruntled."_

 _"WHAT!? No way, gimme that dictionary!"_

 _"Careful Kid, you're moving the game pieces!"_

 _"Aqualad's right, Baywatch, stop jumping around!"_

 _"Ohh man, Rob, that is SO unfair!"_

 _"Hm, you don't seem very gruntled."_

Deathstroke zipped up his pack once more and slung it onto his shoulder. He used that momentum to leap upwards and hook his fingers onto the floor of the level above. Then, swinging forwards, he pushed off the ceiling of the level he was on and flipped gracefully and silently onto the floor above. Though, judging by the ruckus coming through his earpiece, the team wouldn't have heard him no matter how much noise he made.

 _"Team, I believe we have failed to grasp the concept of a 'non-violent team building exercise'"_

 _"It's not my fault, Kid Idiot hit me!"_

 _"You were in the way!"_

 _"'Cause you were trying to hit Robin with a dictionary!"_

 _"He flicked a tile at my eye!"_

 _"That's it!"_

 _"Hey- OW!"_

 _"Robin, stay out of it!"_

 _"How can I? He tried to hit me with a dictionary!"_

 _"Come on, please stay calm, we're all friend- Eep!"_

 _"You hit M'gann!"_

 _"Superboy wait!"_

 _"GRAAHHH!"_

 _"Oh, hey, Supey, join the fight. Just put your shirt back on first."_

 _"Shut up Baywatch and stay still so I can hit you!"_

 _"Yes, Aqualad, play a nice, peaceful game of Scrabble with your team. Nothing will go wrong."_

The last voice was submersed in sarcasm and Deathstroke quirked a smile. Despite all their faults, he supposed the team was amusing. He snuck back out the mountain the way he came and went home to schedule his new apprentice's first day.

* * *

 **AN: Hi! There we go, the second chapter of Pupil in a relatively timely manner. Updates will probably be every week or so, hopefully.**

 **Yes, 'gruntled' is a real word. Look it up, then casually say it in conversation and bet people about its existence when they ask you about it. It makes everyone so disgruntled :P**

 **Also, Aqualad's last line that Deathstroke hears from the team? Has anyone else noticed how hilariously and unexpectedly sassy Kaldur is in canon!? Even in Independence Day he was like "No, nothing odd going on here..." oh Kaldur we think we can't love you anymore than we already do and then you say something like that.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	3. Bombshells

Robin stretched over the back of the couch languidly, watching TV upside down beside Wally, Artemis, and Aqualad. It was a hot, lazy, completely villain bereft Saturday at the Cave. Superboy had been so bored he'd taken M'gann on Wolf's walk and the trio had been gone for awhile now, leaving the rest of the team to sit around the lounge. Wally flipped channels aimlessly, annoying Artemis and forcing a heavy sigh out of Aqualad. Robin casually tossed a razor-sharp batarang above him: up, down, up, down, up-

The TV flicked off, as did all the lights. Robin caught the batarang anyway. The team sat in darkness for a millisecond, waiting for the emergency power supply to kick in. It didn't.

"Rob!" Wally groaned.

"I'm on it, dude, chill." Rob said, already pulling a mini Bat Flashlight (Batlight?) out of his utility belt.

"Tell that to the food rotting in our _currently out of power_ refrigerator!" Wally snapped back, but Robin was already gone, flipping his way down to the hangar. In a few minutes, he'd swung onto the platform of the generator, just like he had against the Reds. The boy wonder opened the control panel, inspecting the circuits critically. There didn't seem to be anything wrong. He frowned. What else could be holding up the electricity? Especially the emergency power supply, that was usually pretty infallible. Idly, Robin dropped down a couple levels to the massive furnace room. With all the machinery down here, it was a good a place as any to start looking for malfunctions. He deftly dodged random puffs of steam in the dark, allowing himself to vaguely wonder if this wasn't just a massive power failure, but something else.

Without warning, the electricity came back on full force, blinding Robin in fluorescent lights. Through the haze of white a harsh force slammed him into the hot metal of Cave machinery. Robin cried out, striking blindly at the shadow in front of him before a gloved hand caught his wrist. Another glove latched around his throat, squeezing gently to place the threat of strangulation over the urge to call for help.

"Shh, Renegade. Quiet."

 _Deathstroke!_ Robin flinched, pressing back against metal as his eyes finally cleared enough to prove it. That was Deathstroke's voice. Deathstroke was in the mountain. _M'gann, Deathstroke's in the mountain!_

The mercenary kept going, pressing his advantage. "Before you think about making noise again, remember that the boy with super hearing, the wolf, and the telepathic girl are no longer in the mountain."

Robin flinched. Dang it, Deathstroke was right. There was nobody around to hear him over the roar of machinery, no telepathic link. Alright then, he would just have to make more noise. Robin smirked, he was usually pretty good at that. His free hand fished for an explosive batarang, palming it lightly in one hand. Not now, Deathstroke was too close right now. The last time they had fought in such close quarters it hadn't gone so well. He'd just have to wait for a better opportunity with more room to move.

"Come." Deathstroke said. Perfect, getting away from the cluttering machinery. The hand on Robin's throat shifted until it encircled both the front and the back of his neck. From this position it could serve as a guide, leash, and warning all at once. Deathstroke kicked open a loose floor panel and dragged Robin through it. They dropped onto another level of the mountain, a storage space with only a few pieces of broken equipment. Inwardly, Robin smirked at the vast space. The batarang dropped from his palm to fingers, throwing position. Deathstroke released his neck and knelt by a floorboard. Perfect. Robin took a slight step forward and pulled his arm back…

The floorboard screeched as it was pried upwards and Robin stopped in his tracks.

A bomb. Perfectly primed and big enough to take out the whole mountain with a push of a button. Deathstroke smirked and held up the trigger.

"I press this at any time and your precious Cave explodes, destroying everything and everyone in it. To prevent this, you will-"

"Let me guess, I'll do whatever you say?" Robin snarked. He'd snapped out of his shock enough for that, at least.

Deathstroke sounded mildly offended, but his voice was still steady. "No, you will be come my apprentice. It may involve orders, but eventually you will possess your own judgement and will follow me on your own volition. Does that sound fair?"

 _NO!_ Robin wanted to scream, _You're blackmailing me! Of course it's not fair!_ But the trigger and the lives of Wally, Artemis, Aqualad, and even Sphere hovered in the corner of his eye. "Yes." Robin grumbled.

Deathstroke nodded. "Good. First things first." He stepped forward and ripped the mask off Robin's face.

Dick's hands flew to his face instinctively, but Deathstroke seized his wrists before he could. Deathstroke studied into the boy's face for a moment and Dick froze, gaping. He'd just been unmasked. Effortlessly. The mask dropped to the floor, useless, there was no point putting it back on anymore. He barely noticed Deathstroke straightening and casually taking off his own mask, leaving an eyepatch and an immaculate white beard in its place. All Dick could do was blink, shocked, until Slade gently tipped his chin up. Their eyes met.

Staring, un-tinted, into the eyes of a known villain that knew his identity was completely unfamiliar. Dick couldn't break away, his pupils dilated in terror, frozen in the knowledge of all the power that man held over him. The trigger, the name, the team, the mentor. His head flooded with the consequences of rebellion. The identity thing was no question—the lives of himself, Bruce, and Alfred would be blown apart. They would probably have to move to another country just to survive and Gotham would self-destruct. About that trigger… if the Cave blew up, anyone inside would be killed, and the team would be finished. Even if there was nobody in the mountain the team was too new and unsteady to survive without a base of operations. Superboy would have nowhere to go, M'gann might have to move back to Mars, and the idea of a team of sidekicks would end right after it started. He might be able to work with KF once in awhile, if he was lucky, but they would never have a team up like they'd had. Besides, Sphere rarely went with them on missions, and Robin had grown way too fond of her to just let her get blown up. Oh, man, all of Wally's souvenirs would be gone too. It was stupid, but those little mementos were like a log of all the best parts of the teams adventures. If they were gone, and the Cave was gone, only a few of Batman's files would prove the team had ever existed. It would be like everything they'd done together for the last year had never happened. Robin, as a hero in a world that needed the team, wasn't about to let that happen. Dick, as a teen who needed his friends, wasn't about to let that happen.

The resolution rolled over Dick like a tidal wave, accompanying a dizzying sense of powerlessness. There were no choices, no chances. Slade had him, fully.

A thin sheet of resignation swept over the rage and fear in Dick's eyes, and Slade saw it. He smirked, which Dick could see clearly since there was no mask, and his pupils dilated in triumph. It sent a chill through Dick's skin, that Slade _enjoyed_ this.

Slade nodded curtly and Dick finally mustered the presence of mind to look away. His eyes fell on his discarded mask and the bomb. In a muted flash of destructive bitterness, he kicked his mask into the hole. It fluttered down to rest beside the bomb. To Dick's astonishment, Slade also kicked his mask into the pit, where it clanged next to Robin's. With the trigger still in his hand, he re-secured the floor panel over the bomb, bending the metal almost effortlessly. He then straightened and looked up at the furnace room as if nothing had happened.

"Come, Renegade." Slade said. Dick shook himself out of his daze, gave the bomb one last, long look, and followed his new mentor out of the mountain.

* * *

 **AN: Hello! Yes, this chapter is late. Only by a few days though, so it's not so bad!**

 **For those of you who were wondering how the apprenticeship coercion was actually going to take place, there's your answer. I originally wasn't going to do the identity part (it seemed too easy) but it fit in really well and I couldn't think of a better place to put the unmasking. This will all make sense at the end I promise.**

 **The bomb in the mountain was always the plan, though. It technically started this whole story, with me wondering if there were any other ways to influence Robin without probes or identities. Kind of rhetorical now that I'm using the latter, but I still feel like it has impact. I chose Cave destruction because I've never seen it done before and because, well, if this were canon, it would add a whole new layer of Nightwing feels when... y'know. Yeah, the souvenir thing was for extra feels, just in case you guys needed that (hahahahaha sorry).**

 **GUEST REVIEWS (because I totally forgot when I first posted this chapter and I really hope they haven't checked the story yet):**

 **Sophie: Thank you so much! It means a lot. Uh... that's a really good question. In my mind, Deathstroke has just started working for the Light and part of his motivation is to work himself up the ladder. Until he can, though, the Light doesn't trust him much yet and won't give him the resources needed to clone someone because he actually doesn't have any Robin DNA yet. When he goes to get Robin DNA (which is his first confrontation with Robin; he volunteered to guard that central console because he knew the team would be there, hence the title "Guardians" because both he and Batman are "Guarding" something) he ends up feeling like he can just take Robin instead without having to wait for a stable Robin clone and because he wants to stick it to the Bat. Besides, wouldn't completely turning an existing sidekick be much more impressive to the Light than cloning one? Thanks for asking, though, because I actually hadn't thought about it until you pointed out a giant plot hole, and now I can allude to his ulterior motive! Which I technically should've been doing in the first two chapters... yeah I'll fix that. Thank you for reviewing!**

 **Guest: ¡Gracias! ¿Hablas español?**

 **Well, anyways, hope you enjoyed! It really was one _bombshell_ of a chapter, wasn't it? (Lol yeah ok just ignore me) **

**Thank you!**


	4. Settlements

**AN: Yikes, _really_ sorry I'm late! Networking issues were involved! **

**Anyway, thanks for everyone who pestered me to get updated and stuck with me! Especially Sparkly Palm Tree, who pestered me on her own story (First, you should check it out, the characterization of Slade is so amazing it hurts. A lot.) AthenaMonaLisa, jcselby, and the Spanish guest.**

 **Guest Reviews:**

 **Guest: Thank you! Neither can I, actually, though it might not happen for a while...**

 **Guest Star: Thank you! I was shooting for that. I'm so glad you like it. Thank you for reviewing!**

 **Guest: ¿Cómo es esto?**

 **Well, without further ado...**

* * *

Richard's POV:

The minute Slade ushered Dick into his super evil villain headquarters, Dick started looking for a way out. He needed to get out and warn his team as soon as possible. While scanning for a neon red 'EXIT' sign, however, Dick couldn't help but notice the sinister magnificence of Slade's lair. He had to admit it was a little impressive. It was a large, open space, many stories high. Ledges jutted out from the sides to form loft-like rooms full of equipment, training areas or monitoring stations. The bottom floor was a long, empty hallway leading to a heavy block-like throne on a dais that imposed it over the entire front hall. It was clearly meant to impress guests, clients, and the occasional unwilling apprentice. Immediately, Dick's mind ran through names. The Deathstroke-cave. No, the Deathstroke-lair. The Deathstroke… uh… the Deathstroke…

Slade was smirking at him. Dick glared back.

"We'll start easy," Slade said.

 _What?_

Half a dozen robots climbed out of the floor and started attacking Dick. They were all nearly exact copies of Slade, only with the inability to move their painted eyes. Very creepy. Dick shuddered in disgust and rolled to dodge the first strike as half a dozen robots attacked him at once. To his surprise, they were actually pretty easy, slow and clumsy. His mind wandered. The Deathstroke-anything didn't really have a great ring to it. He'd have to think of something else. Man, how did Bruce ever think of the Bat-cave? Bruce…

Dick's mind flashed back to when he'd told his mentor about Deathstroke. It was the last real conversation they'd had before Bruce had gotten sucked into research on Slade Wilson and sent Robin off to the cave. Even when Robin went back to the Batcave, Bruce had been so absorbed all his responses were monosyllabic. Well, they usually were, but he hadn't added anything to the words. No secret gestures, hidden meanings, nothing. So Dick had stayed in the cave. He thought about it now, though, in the middle of a robot fight.

 _Robin was immediately ushered to the cave's med bay from the Zeta Tube, where Alfred was already waiting. He hopped onto the table reflexively and allowed the butler to gently cut the top of his uniform off, exposing long slash across his chest._

 _"What happened?" Batman asked again. Robin sighed and explained as Alfred wrapped him up. Batman's frown deepened the longer Robin went on, nearly scowling by the time he was over._

 _"You said that Slade," Batman said the name with a bitter twinge, "called you 'Renegade' and continually gave you advice throughout the fight?"_

 _Robin lifted his arms at Alfred's silent bidding to give the butler a better angle to his bruised ribs. "Yeah."_

 _"Mm. The advice was not said in a condescending manner?"_

 _"No, but it felt like it was."_

 _"Mm. It seemed like he was trying not to hurt you?"_

 _"How weird is that?"_

 _"Mm."_

 _"Mm?"_

 _"…But he hurt you anyway?"_

 _Robin looked down, "Yeah." This was always the worst part; admitting failure to Batman._

 _"Mmm." It was a deeper 'Mm' this time, more disapproving._

Richard drew his escrima sticks against the horde of robots. They were easy to hit, but the hits didn't seem to be doing much damage. At the time, Robin had thought the disapproval in Batman's tone had been meant for him. Thinking back, he guessed it could have been for Slade the whole time. The thought was comforting, especially in such an unfamiliar situation. Unfamiliar location, too. Hm, if Deathstroke didn't work with anything, he'd have to try something different. The Slade-cave? The Slade-house?

 _Alfred finally finished with the cut on Robin's arm. He went over to join his mentor at the giant Bat-computer._

 _"Sooo… anything I can help you with?" (Hey, I'm still useful. I can help!)_

 _"No. Go to bed." (No. Go away.)_

 _The monitors flashed with pictures of Slade Wilson. His military history. The serum tests._

 _"You sure?" (Please?)_

 _"Yes." (…)_

 _"Oh." (Batman? Bruce?)_

 _"…" (…)_

 _Batman flicked past the background, straight to the family. The two sons. The daughter._

 _"Ok." (Okay, I guess. Goodnight, Bruce)_

 _"…" (…)_

The robots crawled at Dick like zombies. Half-destroyed zombies with electronic blood and guts all over the place. If they were creepy before, they were even creepier now. One dragged itself to Dick with its arms like a COD crawler. Whoa. What did it take with these guys? His escrima sticks nearly slipped out of his fingers, vision vague with exhaustion. He struck with poor aim at the torso of the nearest robot, only for the metal to glance off the chest plate and sink into the robot's neck. Richard started instinctively. The machines were too lifelike for his liking, and striking a killing blow to something that looked even vaguely human was something he'd been avoiding his entire life. The unease dissipated somewhat, however, when the robot went down and stayed there.

Richard resisted the urge to cackle. Now that he knew the neck was the weak point, he dispatched the rest of the disabled robots easily. The Slade… The Slade Base... The Slade Settlement! It needed a work, but it was better than the other ones. Richard couldn't help but grin as he defeated the rest of the robots and turned back to Slade.

* * *

Slade's POV:

Slade ushered Richard Grayson into his headquarters and the boy's eyes darted, trying to take in everything at once. A flash of pride rushed through Slade as Richard took in the magnificence of his lair. Slade studied his new apprentice. Despite how much the boy was trying to hide it, Slade could see that he was slightly impressed. Richard caught his gaze and glared again. Well, if he was so resistant, perhaps it would be better to give him a shock instead of settling him in gently.

"We'll start easy," Slade resolved aloud. It was Richard's only warning before circular hatches opened in the open floor and Slade's robots climbed out and attacked him. Slade stepped around the scuffle and settled into his throne to watch. It was a beautiful sight, his new apprentice holding his own against multiple attackers. He had yet to find the weak spots but did well nonetheless, striking at joints and torso. If only he knew that lethal force was the only way to take the robots down permanently…

Everything was going perfectly. All that preparation, the time, just watching his boy flip and spin made it worth it. No, that wasn't it. That wasn't when taking Richard became worthwhile. It was back in the boiler room, when Slade had ripped off his mask and seen his eyes for the first time. If Slade had learned anything from his first family, especially Adeline (beautiful Adeline), it would be that the reveal of identities was the first step in building trust. A sort of respectful vulnerability. Slade was glad he'd taken that first step as soon as the boy was his. Now the relationship could grow healthily.

When he'd gently peeled off the mask, the bright, robin's egg blue (a nice coincidence, now that Slade thought about it) colour had caught his attention first. It was pretty hard to miss. Then a dark circle had nearly eclipsed the blue as Richard's pupils blew wide with fear. Hm, fear. That was an emotion Slade had known he'd see in the boy's eyes, though he hadn't expected to see quite that much of it. Hopefully Richard would grow out of it soon enough as he trusted Slade more. Mixed into that fear, though, was what Slade realized he'd been looking for. A hint of respect. Soon, that respect would turn into admiration, and the preparation would be more than worth it.

The half-decimated robots struggled forward. All of them had received injuries that would have more than incapacitated a human by now. Wires sparked from beneath the dented iron plating at odd angles. Many had lost a limb or two; one had a broken leg and was dragging itself along the floor to attack again. Batarangs and severed bolas were scattered across the basement. Richard was tiring and running out of equipment, escrima sticks nearly slipping out of his grasp. His strikes were erratic. By chance, one glanced off a chest plate and buried itself in the neck of the robot, a lethal hit. The machine collapsed, finally powered off. Richard's eyes widened and he leapt towards another robot, slicing open the neck with a batarang in one quick movement. He wasted no time, dispatching the rest in a similar manner. When all the androids finally collapsed, he turned back to Slade, panting through his grin.

"If I can beat 6 you's at once, how long d'you think it'll take me to beat you?" Richard smirked. Slade frowned. How impertinent. This attitude would not be tolerated in his household. He stood up, towering over Richard as he stepped down the dais threateningly. The boy glared back challengingly, annoying smirk still plastered on his face, chest heaving. In a flash of movement, Slade drew a sword and swept Richard's legs out from under him. He landed on his stomach and Slade was over him before he could snatch his breath back, wrenching his arm between his shoulder blades.

"That attitude will not be tolerated, Richard. You will show me proper respect. Do you understand?"

When Richard didn't respond, Slade hauled him upwards, tightening the pressure on his shoulder. The boy clenched his teeth to keep from crying out but a shallow grunt slipped past his lips.

"Do you understand?" Slade asked again.

"Yes," Richard growled. One question was not worth a dislocated shoulder.

"Yes, Master."

"What!?" Richard jumped in his grasp, though immediately stilled when the motion sent a pang through his arm. He glared at Slade out of the corner of his eye. "No. No way.

"Yes."

"The day I call you 'master' is the day Wally hates sandwiches," Robin snarked in a strained flash of humour. Slade snarled. Now the boy was being deliberately difficult. Did Bruce let him run wild through the famous Wayne Manor? Clearly, supportive boundaries needed to be set, on this crucial first day especially.

"Richard. Unless you comply now, you will call me 'Master' for the foreseeable future," Slade hadn't planned on that. The usage of formal titles was only meant for the first few days, the first few weeks maximum if absolutely necessary, in order to establish structure in the relationship. A military title, the usage of which would peter out as familiarity grew. It had worked with Adeline (brilliant Adeline). He fondly remembered the first time he hadn't called her Captain.

No answer. Slade growled and slammed the heel of his palm into Richard's shoulder blade. The boy cried out in pain.

"Alright! Alright! Yes, Master! Yes Master!" he shouted. Slade released him unceremoniously as a reward. He would still have to answer for his previous insolence, so Slade kicked him harshly in the ribs. Richard moaned, curling onto his side with his arm clasped against his chest. His blue eyes glanced blearily up at Slade's, making the man smile. There was a little bit more respect in those pupils, a clear sign that Slade had given good discipline.

Assuring himself that no further lapses in obedience would occur, Slade stepped around his groaning protege and settled back in his throne.

* * *

Wally's POV:

Wally stared at his sandwich on the kitchen counter morosely. He buried his head in his hands, appetite gone. Robin had been missing for six hours now and he regretted ever sending his best friend to fix the electricity. He'd been lazy, _lazy_ , and now Dick was gone. The mountain was overrun by Leaguers combing for evidence. The team sat in a hushed gloom in the middle of the frenzy.

When Robin didn't come back after fixing the lights, they'd all thought he was just joking around and was about to pop out from anywhere. Kaldur got a bad feeling in his gut when the Boy Wonder didn't turn up for a solid half hour, though, so Wally swept the mountain. Once he'd swept it thoroughly enough to convince them all that Robin was actually missing, they'd called Batman immediately. Well, Kaldur called Batman, everyone else cowered behind him. Batman had gone off to search on his own without contacting the rest of the League. But when M'gann, Superboy, and Wolf had gotten back from their walk to find Robin missing, a freaked out M'gann called Martian Manhunter before they could stop her and then everyone knew.

Batman strode in from Robin's room. The team and all the Leaguers present turned to him immediately. His frown deepened and he didn't respond, just stomped silently towards the team.

"Go over with me, again, what happened. Exactly."

Aqualad explained for the umpteenth time. Batman's only reactions were vague grunts of disapproval. It was very disheartening.

"Did any of you see or hear any signs of Slade Wilson?"

Wally blinked, "Deathstroke? The guy Robin fought last week? What does he have to do with any of this?"

Batman frown deepened even further.

"You don't know, do you," Superman said quietly.

"Shut up, Clark," Batman hissed. "I'll find him."

"Never said you wouldn't, just-"

"No, we don't have time for that. Slade Wilson is connected to this. Robin wouldn't disappear randomly if he wasn't."

"There are no signs of a struggle and he didn't activate the Zeta tubes," Black Canary cut in. "With a home court advantage, anyone trying to take Robin out of the mountain would have been in for a world of trouble. We saw that when the Red's attacked. The only options are that he's still in the mountain somewhere, or that he left willingly. Which doesn't mean anything, of course, it's just a place to start." She finished quickly when Batman glared at her. Scowl still welded in place, he turned abruptly and left the room.

"Where are you going?" Green Arrow called after him.

"To find my- to find Robin."

The zeta tubes fired and he was gone.


	5. Ignition

"Richard. Wake up."

Dick's eyes snapped open. He still wasn't used to being woken up manually, even after a full week of it. It was unnerving, having your first thought every morning be that your greatest enemy could have smothered you in your sleep. Dick sat up quickly, wincing as the bruises from last night's sparring made themselves know. It would be worse if he didn't sit up, though, Slade might have taken that as a sign of disrespect. Still, Dick couldn't help but rub his eyes tiredly. He hadn't gotten much sleep. The military cot was rock hard in comparison to his bed at Wayne Manor, but Slade said simplicity built character, so hard bed and tiny pillow it was.

Said man was busy arranging a set of clothes on the foot of Dick's bed. Dick couldn't help but think that it was vaguely maternal, how Slade laid out his clothes for the day and woke him up. It was rather confusing, and a little creepy. After years of unintentionally icy Batman and benevolently distant Agent A, though, it poked at a raw spot in Dick's heart. Just two little things and he was back in a circus caravan, watching his mom lay out his performance outfit for him. But when he blinked the colours on the uniform were Slade's colours and the little insignia over his heart wasn't a brilliant red R but a steel grey S, marking him. Labeling him. Condemning him. He blinked and he was back in Slade's cold, villainous hands, in what amounted to a black prison cell (the doors locked from the outside, he'd checked), missing Bruce and Alfred all over again.

"Dining hall. Fifteen minutes," Slade said, and then he was gone, leaving Dick to get ready.

Fourteen minutes later, Richard walked towards the dining hall, dread dragging his feet. He tugged at his uniform disgruntledly, heavy on the dis. Today was the day. He entered the dining hall, sat across from Slade and began eating his breakfast silently. It didn't last long.

"How do you feel, Richard? Today is the day." Slade's one eye put Richard in an inescapable spotlight.

"Good."

"Good?"

"Good, Master." Richard spat with a vague, false blitheness. Slade caught it.

"It's usual to be nervous on your first mission, especially when someone you used to know has the possibility of showing up. When I first stole for the mission, I…"

Richard stopped listening. Despite Slade's desperate attempts to bond, there wasn't anything worth listening to. He especially didn't want to hear a story furthering his current mentor's villainy.

"I felt terrible, of course, but-"

"How did you figure out the team stayed at the mountain... Master?" Richard blurted.

Slade blinked at the sudden interruption, but answered the question anyway. At this point, any topic was a good topic, as long as they were talking. "I was fishing one day near Happy Harbour and saw a green girl playing in the sand."*

"Oh."

"Yes."

Richard played with his broccoli. Slade sipped his drink every five seconds.

"Do you like sports?" Slade asked abruptly.

Richard looked at him oddly, "…yeah?"

"Which is your favourite?"

"Sport? Uh, I dunno, gymnastics, I guess." Richard stared at his plate. He suddenly felt very awkward. "Yours?"

"I enjoy gun sports," Slade said, more at ease. "Do you?"

"Batman hates guns."

"Oh. Right."

Richard chased a nonexistent smudge of gravy around his plate. Slade took a long time to wipe his mouth in a gentlemanly manner.

"Well, it's time, Richard. Put on your mask. Let's go."

Gratefully, Renegade stood and walked to the entrance of the Slade Settlement. His Deathstroke-patterned motorcycle was waiting for him.

"Wait, there's a GPS on the motorcycle leading me back to the Slade Settlement at the end of the mission, right?" Renegade asked. He hadn't been out all week and probably wouldn't remember where it was.

Slade arched an eyebrow, "The Slade Settlement?"

Renegade froze, "Uh…"

"If you're going to name our base of operations, The Deathcave sounds cooler," Slade smirked.

Renegade allowed a small smile to creep over his face, "Deathcave it is, then, Master." He reached for his helmet.

"Wait," Slade said. He knelt to check the heater on the motorcycle, turning it on. "It's cold outside. Stay on the motorcycle or by a heater as much as you can."

Renegade rolled his eyes, "Yes, mother."

Slade's eyebrow rose so much Renegade could see it over the eyepatch. "What was that, apprentice?"

"Uhh, I meant... I said… master? Yeah, Master! With… a french accent! Like this," Renegade waved his hands in the air, thumb, middle and index pressed together like a french chef. " _Mustar_! It just sounded like ' _muthar_ ' because I was… yeah… practicing," he wilted in Slade's glare. "I'll, uh, just get on my first mission now, Master. Bye!"

He hopped on his motorcycle and made a hasty escape.

* * *

Renegade perched at the top of a building. He shivered slightly. The winds swirled around him without the protection of his cape. Really, though, the cold was the least of his worries. Renegade glared at the two-story building beneath him, his target. Deathstroke was forcing him to steal from a gun shop in Happy Harbour, where the team was sure to be on alert. A thick steel band was affixed to Renegade's forehead to remove the threat of Miss M figuring out the situation via telepathy. It itched and made Renegade lopsided, but Slade insisted it was necessary for now. Through the built-in cameras and microphones in Renegade's suit, the villain could remotely monitor the whole situation. The earpiece used to guide him accordingly was so insulated not even Superboy would be able to hear what Slade told him. And he'd thought Batman had been controlling.

The thought brought on another involuntary shiver. Bruce. _Bruce_ -

 **"Now, Renegade!"** Slade roared through his earpiece.

Renegade leapt, soaring onto the roof of the gun shop. Hanging upside-down over the edge of the building, he cut a circle of glass out of the window with a small laser. The glass popped out and Renegade grabbed it before it could shatter on the ground. He hoisted it onto the roof and slid into the building.

 **"I'm in."**

 **"Good. You know what to do."**

Renegade frowned and nodded. He had been forced to memorize many different types of guns so he'd know which ones to grab. Silently, Renegade crept up to the nearest one, a simple 9mm. He picked it from its case without a hitch and moved on. Soon he'd collected nearly half the guns in the shop. Looking down at his pile of prizes, Renegade couldn't help the disgust that curled in his stomach. Deathstroke was right. He would have made a great thief. He hadn't even set off any of the silent alarms.

A glimmer of movement caught Renegade's eye. He glanced out the window and swore. The bioship, in camouflage mode, was hovering over the building.

 **"This changes nothing, Renegade. Complete the mission."**

 **"But I didn't set off any alarms!"** Renegade growled under his breath. His heart thudded at the prospect of fighting his team, leading to his indignant tone. If he was being completely honest, he also hated the thought that he'd made a mistake on his first robbery, even if now the owner would probably be reimbursed faster.

 **"No, you didn't,"** Slade said in his ear.

Renegade froze. **"But you did,"** he hissed angrily.

 **"Yes. You need to learn to handle challenges as they come up. But congratulations, the mission would have gone perfectly. I knew you had it in you."**

Shadows appeared at the front of the store. Renegade cursed and started throwing the guns into the bag.

"Stop!" Aqualad appeared in the door of the shop. Renegade tied the bag to his back securely. Not fast enough. The whole team was in the doorway now, staring at him.

"…Rob?" Kid Flash whispered.

 **"Fight, Renegade. You must escape through the door."**

 **"But the window-"**

 **"NO! You do not speak in front of them. If you escape through the window I'll destroy them. I have their identities as well and I will leak them if you push me. Perhaps I'll start with Wallace West. So, Renegade, fight your way out. NOW!"**

The team was still staring, taking in the awful scene. Their 'missing' teammate was surrounded by guns, destruction, crime, and was clearly the cause of all. Renegade growled and flung a smoke bomb in their direction. He could get around them while they were blinded. Aqualad blocked the pellet easily. It fell to the ground… and didn't go off.

 **"I want you to see them as you defeat them, Renegade. All your smoke bombs are defective."**

Great. Mentorship at its best.

"Robin? What are you doing?" Miss Martian asked worriedly.

At the same time, Renegade heard, _Robin? What are you doing?_ resound through his head.

 _It's Deathstroke! There's a bomb in the mountain!_ Renegade thought emphatically. He stepped towards them, hopeful. Maybe, just maybe-

 _He's not responding,_ Miss Martian thought sadly, _I thought I added him to the link but I can't feel him._

 _Look at that thing on his forehead. Do you think that could be blocking the signal?_ Artemis thought.

Renegade stilled, _Wait, I can hear you guys but you can't hear me? That's weird…_

 _Why are we worried about the mental link when we should be worried about why Robin's stealing guns?_ Superboy's ever blunt voice cut in.

 **"Do I have to tell you again, Renegade?"** Slade hissed.

The former Boy Wonder cursed and threw another batarang. _Get out of here!_ he thought fervently, despite the fact that they couldn't hear him. _If you don't, I'm not sure I can keep Slade from destroying you,_ he leapt onto a nearby shelf and glared down at them from above in a weak attempt to intimidate them. The guns on the shelf beneath him rattled.

 _Guys… I think he's going to attack us,_ Artemis murmured, sinking instinctively into a defensive stance.

 **"Renegade…"**

Cursing Slade to high heaven, Renegade jumped down from the shelf and kicked at Artemis, the only one in a position to dodge it. He swung immediately and kicked Superboy, knowing it would glance off his skin without a trace. Now that he'd jumped into the thick of them, the team surrounded him, confused, wary, hurt…

 _C'mon, leave, leave! Get out of here!_ Renegade thought furiously.

Only a chorus of _what?_ and _why?_ answered him.

Aqualad moved first, making a shield and whip of his water bearers. "Robin, we can help you. Stand down and-"

Renegade kicked him in the chest, slamming the Atlantean over the checkout counter. The rest of the team moved around their former teammate, defensive, ready for a fight. An arrow pinned Renegade's sleeve to the counter. He could feel Miss Martian's telepathy lifting his feet off the ground. Renegade ripped the arrow out of his sleeve and grabbed a cheap lighter from the counter, setting the arrow on fire and flinging towards the martian. She dodged it with a shriek but lost her telepathic control in the process. Superboy roared and charged Renegade, who hopped onto the counter to dodge. He'd forgotten about Aqualad, still in the checkout box from Renegade's kick, until a rope of water wrapped solidly around his ankle and pulled him off his feet. Kid Flash rushed forward and pinned his best friend's wrists to the glass countertop. The water slithered over both ankles, immobilizing them. Renegade thrashed half-heartedly. He was, secretly, very relieved.

"Rob?" Kid Flash's face peered at him upside down. Renegade almost smirked. It was like he was hanging over the back of a couch again, taunting Wally about losing their video game, but Kid Flash's absolutely devastated expression ruined the hopeful illusion. The rest of the team gathered around, studying their fallen teammate sadly as he lay pinned before them.

Suddenly, a flash of light caught the corner of Renegade's eye. Fire. The arrow he'd thrown at Miss Martian had ignited the carpet and the resulting blaze crept closer and closer to…

"Gunpowder! Get out of here!" Renegade cried desperately.

The gun shop exploded.

* * *

 ***There's a lot of talk about the beach scene, since we can see boats in the water while the team is playing in the sand and M'gann is still green. I decided to make Slade one of those boats.**

 **The Deathcave's amazing name was contributed by ShatteredIce18**

 **Guest reviews:**

 **Spanish Guest: Gracias!**

 **Until next time!**


	6. On the Edge

**Before we start, can we just take a moment to think of all the soldiers that gave their lives for ours?**

* * *

 **AN: This was a very awkward chapter to write. I wrote a sentence an hour, I swear, it was so arduous.**

 **Anyway, I've received a lot of questions about when Slade started calling Dick "Richard" and requests to put in a flashback about the first time that happened. There will be a flashback for it, not in this chapter, but it will come soon.**

 **Guest Reviews:**

 **Lovely: Thank you so much! There's no point when fics have a lot of violence and close to no plot. This chapter and the next, however, does show quite a bit of violence towards Dick and I hope I don't make it too unjustifiable to you. If I go over the top, please tell me. I'm glad you like Slade's portrayal so much and I really hope I don't ruin it. Thank you for reviewing and I hope I hear from you again soon!**

 **Doctor Matt: Thank you! Deathstroke most definitely cares about Robin. He cares too much, actually, which provides much of the conflict. Don't worry, there will be a lot more conflict with Batman to come. Thank you for reviewing!**

* * *

 _"Gunpowerder! Get out of here!" Renegade cried desperately._

 _The gun shop exploded._

* * *

Renegade blinked his way to consciousness slowly, squeezing his eyes shut when heat parched them. He rolled away from the heat and found himself in free fall, landing with a jolt. The drop had only been a few feet but it had been more than enough to knock the air out of him. Coughing, Renegade rolled onto his elbows and tried to push himself up. His blurry vision latched onto glass counter full of guns… right, he had been in a gun shop when it…

His team! Renegade pushed himself onto his hands and knees. Aqualad was slumped beside the counter, the water that had been holding Renegade splashed and evaporating around him. Wally and Artemis were strewn nearby. The crouched form of Superboy was shielding an unconscious Miss Martian from the flames, unable to find an opening to get out of the building. The blast hadn't knocked him out, invulnerable as he was, and Renegade tilted his head dazedly as he wondered why he wasn't unconscious either. The head tilt made the weight on his forehead uncomfortably noticeable. Oh, the telepathy guard, right. That thing was so solid it was like a makeshift helmet. Huh, guess Slade was right about that thing.

The smoke invaded Renegade's lungs, forcing him to cough and crash back to the real, currently in flames, world. Superboy looked up at him and growled, instinctively pulling M'gann closer to his chest. The motion sent a pang through Renegade. Just a few months ago, Superboy had trusted him around kryptonite. They had tag-teamed their mentors in perfect synchrony. Now they were expecting attack in a burning building.

"C-c'mon," Renegade coughed. "We gotta get'm all out."

"You started this fire in the first place!" Superboy roared, hoarse. Renegade ducked his head guiltily.

"Doesn't mean I want them to die," he said. He grabbed his spare grapple from his belt and sent it spinning around the collapsed support beams between them and the door. Settling the line across his shoulders for leverage, Renegade pulled with all he had, mindlessly wondering what Slade would say if he saw his treasured protege saving the team. A broken earpiece rested a few feet in front of him, cracking in the flames. Oh.

"Supey, help me pull. Put Miss M behind the counter, it should be safest there," Renegade said, finally admitting he wasn't going to be able to clear the way on his own. He didn't look over his shoulder to see if Superboy complied or even heard, but eventually he felt a stronger tug on his line and heard Superboy grunting in effort behind him. The pillars cracked and tumbled like burnt matchsticks and Renegade could see the stars in the opening. Superboy scooped up Miss Martian and gently swept Artemis over his shoulder. Renegade threw his arm around Kid Flash and dragged Aqualad by his water bearers, doing his best to keep both from the flames. Above his head, a plastic case of bullets melted, sending a hail of molten metal pellets at his head. In desperation, Renegade threw himself over his friends, bracing for lava bullets burning through his uniform. When nothing happened, he risked a glance upwards. Superboy was hovering over all of them, the hot metal rolling harmlessly off his back, shredding his shirt in the process. Renegade smirked. How did that always happen? With a flick of his wrist, Superboy shoved the shelf away from them and pulled Aqualad's arm over his shoulders. Renegade did the same with Wally. Together, they maneuvered around obstacles in perfect synchrony, leaping clear of the building just as it collapsed in a fiery heap behind them. Renegade collapsed to his hands and knees, coughing the smoke out of his lungs. He looked up at Superboy and grinned broadly. Sometime during their escape, he'd forgotten he wasn't Robin.

"Nice job, Supey, totally asterous," he panted. His grin faded at the conflict written across Superboy's face. "Supey?"

"Robin, what's going on?" Superboy's voice was unusually soft, coated in smoke and doubt. Renegade stopped, wishing for the first time that he didn't have his mask on, that Superboy could read everything in his eyes. Slade was probably still watching and listening, and if he though Renegade even tried to tell his friends, Kid Flash might as well put his identity in the paper right beside "MOUNT JUSTICE EXPLODES"

Superboy stepped forward, concerned. Robin's posture was all wrong and his heartbeat sped to the point of fear. Superboy blinked. He'd never seen Robin this afraid before. But what was he afraid of? "Robin? Are you alright?"

Renegade still didn't move, staring at his former friend as he debated his answer, "Supe-"

A harsh green light flared from behind Superboy. The boy of steel folded to the hot concrete, Deathstroke stepping over his crumpled form. Renegade fell backwards with a shout, scrambling away from his mentor.

"Renegade…" Deathstroke hissed. He was furious, eyes reflecting the fire roaring around them. Renegade's palms pressed into pebbles, feet scrabbling as he dragged himself backwards. Beside him Wally groaned, coughing. On instinct, Renegade reached over and shook his best friend desperately, wide eyes locked on Deathstroke.

"Wally, w-wake up," his voice shook. Slade stepped over a burning log unflinchingly, steel boots snuffing out tiny flames as he approached. Renegade shook harder, "W-Wally…"

Deathstroke stepped through a screen of smoke and suddenly he was right in front of Renegade. He pulled the boy up by the collar.

"We're going hone now," he growled, "and you're going to explain to me-"

The sharp swoosh of a cape behind him cut him off. Deathstroke growled. Batman had arrived. Thinking quickly, Deathstroke injected Renegade with a sedative, knocking his protege unconscious. The dosage may have been a little strong for the boy's body weight, but it would do the trick for now. He pressed the needle tip against Renegade's throat.

"Slade," Batman growled, "Let him go."

Deathstroke turned around, snarl visible under the mask, Batman's son cradled in his arms. "No. Not to you. You'll drop him."

Batman stiffened. He'd caught full view of Renegade's costume, mask, insignia… "What have you done to him?" he hissed through his teeth. Only the needle against his son's neck stopped him from throttling the villain.

"I took a page out of your book, _Batman_ ," Deathstroke said mockingly. "You made Richard your Robin, I made him my Renegade."

"Not willingly."

"Are you talking about his will, or yours?"

Behind Deathstroke, Wally groaned and sat up, staring with groggy horror at the scene in front of him. Batman shot him a warning glare. The rest of the team stirred.

Suddenly the building behind them shuddered, fire leaping from the cracked facade. Batman flung an ice pellet at the blaze, shielding the teens with his cloak. When he looked back, Deathstroke was gone.

* * *

Dick groaned and coughed a bit, feeling the last dredges of smoke grate against his throat. His head felt foggy, probably from some sort of sedative, if only he could remember…

"Richard," a voice that wasn't Bruce's said. Dick's eyes snapped open. Slade was sitting beside his bed, elbows resting on his knees as he stared at Dick. Mask-less, but still in his uniform he struck an intimidating figure. Instinctively, Dick flinched back in the sheets a little.

"…Yeah?"

Slade backhanded him across the face. Dick was so shocked he froze, staring off to the side. He had _felt_ the simmering anger in that blow. Slade rarely punished him so physically. Still, the slap had knocked a bit of the fog from his mind, and the night's events trickled back to him.

"You don't say 'yeah' to me, boy!"

The faces of his friends flashed through his head with a surge of rage. Dick snapped his head back around, scowling at Slade. "Don't call me 'boy,' then!"

"Richard…"

"And while you're at it, don't order me to attack my friends!" The team's expressions blurred in and out as his memory fully reconstructed itself. Their confusion, shock, anger, sadness, hurt. "The only reason I'm doing all this stupid pretending for you is to protect them, and they almost died today because of me. Because of you!" Dick snarled, leaping at Slade. He underestimated the amount of chemicals still in his bloodstream, though, and a fogginess unbalanced him before he could reach his target. Deathstroke caught his wrist easily and he found himself hanging between his master and his bed precariously.

"You get one more chance, don't-"

Dick punched with his free hand, catching Slade in his unguarded jaw.

"-Waste it," Slade growled. In half a breath, he threw Dick over his shoulder and onto the ground. The room scrambled as the combination of drugs and sudden movement wreaked havoc on Dick's balance.

"Don't tell me… what to do…" he wheezed. His vision greyed around the edges and his focus latched onto a black eyepatch in a sea of white hair.

"Don't disrespect me and I won't have to," Slade bent and scooped his apprentice into his arms bridal style, walking out of the medical bay. Dick kicked and fought sluggishly, watching the walls blur as he was carried gently to the edge of the ledge they were on. From there they could see almost all the other balconies and the elevators leading down to the main hall on the bottom 'floor.' The hall looked far down, but Dick knew from years of acrobatics that a fall from this height probably wouldn't be fatal. He had the sudden, random urge to attach a bunch of trapezes to the ceiling and swing. His eyes wandered fuzzily over the training ledge, the dining ledge, his own small ledge where his room was, and Slade's forbidden top ledge. The man placed him down suddenly and Dick barely found his feet in time to keep upright.

"Richard," Slade said tenderly, kneeling. He placed a hand on Dick's shoulder, half to steady him and half to draw his attention in a kind, fatherly manner. "You know why I insist you respect me, right?"

Dick just mustered his concentration and gave a patented bat-glare. It felt like the loyal thing to do. Slade's frown deepened and he produced a long rope attached to a grapple from who knows where. With his free hand Slade began wrapping the rope around Dick's waist, the other still on the boy's shoulder.

"Do you remember when I told you about my family, Richard?"

Dick nodded hesitantly. He tried to pull free from Slade's gentle grasp, but suddenly the fingers gripped tight, holding him in place. Not that there was anywhere to go, Dick's bare heels were inches from the edge. Slade kept talking fluidly while he worked.

"You know how the rest of my children… fared, right? See, the problem was that they didn't respect me enough to listen to me as their mentor."

Withe the rope moderately secured around Dick's waist, Slade moved to his chest and shoulders. Dick tried to use his free hands to push Slade away, but all that did was make the mercenary talk a little faster.

"They didn't respect my orders, they were disobedient in their ignorance, and it got them killed."

Slade released Dick's shoulder and stepped back a few paces, admiring his work. By now the rope had formed a rough harness, similar to the gear Dick remembered from when Bruce had taken him rock climbing.

"What does that have to do with me?" Dick said.

"This," Slade shot the grapple upwards, attaching it to the ceiling securely. Then he walked up to Dick and placed his hands on his shoulders, rubbing them gently, before pushing his protege off the ledge.


End file.
